


Stuck

by Dumpster_Fire



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bestiality, Blow Jobs, Daddy Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Father/Son Incest, Filthy, Insults, Kabeshiri, Keith gets punished, Keith is 17, M/M, Nipple Licking, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Prostate Massage, Prostate Milking, Punishment, Rough Sex, Spanking, Stuck in a wall, Underage Sex, bestiality in chapter 2, but in a horny way, technically - stuck in a window
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:28:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24693787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dumpster_Fire/pseuds/Dumpster_Fire
Summary: Keith gets caught in the window trying to sneak out to the party and his father, Shiro, decides to teach him a lesson he won't forget.
Relationships: Keith/Keith's Wolf (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 46
Kudos: 563





	1. Incest

Shiro hears the telltale slide of the bathroom window click into place and he heaves a sigh. Of course.

It’s Saturday night, so of course Keith is sneaking out. Slipping out the bathroom window, shimmying down the trellis, walking his dirt bike a down the lane before zipping off to one of his friends’ houses for a party. He’s 17. He can’t be told what to do.

Shiro was 17 once. And he was just like his son. Sneaking out, smoking weed, drinking. Hooking up with people he never should have hooked up with. He’d hoped to spare Keith those same mistakes but there doesn’t seem any way to make that possible.

Keith is a rebel and a wild child, just like his dad. 

Still, Shiro doesn’t want to see the boy get locked out. The bathroom window is the kind that has pull-tabs on the inside that click into place so it holds itself open. More than once Keith has locked himself out because he didn’t push the window high enough and it fell and locked in at a lower setting, one Keith can’t squeeze through.

There’s a rustling, scurrying sound coming from the dark bathroom as Shiro approaches. Mostly likely it’s the dog, scratching at the wall, waiting for Keith to return. That dog loves Keith like nothing else.

So, that’s what Shiro expects to find when he pushes the door open and flicks on the bathroom light. 

He doesn’t expect to find his teenage son’s ass hanging from the window, his legs kicking, just barely able to touch his sneakers to the floor. 

“Uhh… Dad?” Keith asks. His voice sounds distant coming from the half-shut window which seems to be trapping him in place.

Keith’s thin fingers grab at the window, trying to wrap under the edge and lift it up, but Shiro can see just from the way his fingers move that he’s too twisted to get a grip.

Besides, that click Shiro heard before means the window’s locked in place. Keith isn’t going anywhere unless he can shimmy his way out. And the boy inherited his mother’s ass (may she rest in peace), so there’s no way he’s wiggling out. 

A strange combination of emotions comes over Shiro as he steps closer to his trapped child. Anger is the frontrunner. Followed by the sweet taste of ironic justice that the boy’s attempt to escape has trapped him worse than ever. It serves him right for trying to sneak out.

“Where were you headed this time, Keith? Off to see Hunk and Lance?” Shiro’s eyes narrow as he takes in the short-shorts Keith’s wearing. He’s pretty sure he told Keith to throw them in the donation pile because they’re too small for him. “Or are you going to see that Griffin kid?”

Keith pulls at the window one last time, then his hands fall away. Shiro can’t see the rest of him, hidden by the darkness of their rural home, but he hears the huff sound Keith makes. It’s a sound of resignation.

“Can you get me out of here?”

“Why? So you can go get drunk and suck one of your little friends’ dicks?”

Keith shifts and tries to squirm out of the window, his legs kicking into the wall, trying to find some purchase.

“Da-ad!” he sulks. “Let me back in. You caught me, ok? I’ll stay in.”

“You’re damn right you’re staying in.”

Shiro doesn’t think of himself as a cruel father. Sure, he’s stern. He lays down the law, but for the most part he lets Keith search out his own limits. But there’s something about this new sneaking off habit of his that makes Shiro itch for punishment. 

“I’m going to nail this window shut if you’re going to keep this up, mister.”

“Da-aad! I’m sorry, ok!”

“Oh, you’re sorry alright. If you were a kid, I’d spank you.”

And _that’s_ an idea, isn’t it? Shiro wouldn’t even have to bend the boy over his lap because he’s already bent over with nowhere to go.

“You’d deserve it. You broke the rules.” 

Keith is pulling at the window again, stretching his toes to try and push off the ground. He’s saying something outside, but it’s not loud enough for Shiro to make out the words. The tone is a bit emotional, however. Like he’s asking forgiveness.

Shiro reaches out and touches Keith’s hip.

The boy stills.

Yes, it’s too good of an idea to pass up. The universe has saw fit to trap Keith here for Shiro’s judgement; it’s Shiro’s job to follow through.

“Three hits, just like when you were little.” 

“Okay,” Keith says, accepting this is his only way out of the window.

Shiro holds his son’s hips lightly with one hand and moves so he can strike with the other. He doesn’t hit that hard, he’s not brutal, but his hand does feel a bit of the sting. Keith’s jeans shorts, so small the back pocket takes up most of the material, absorb a lot of the hit.

Keith, damn him – Keith _giggles_ at the hit. Like it’s funny.

Shiro grits his teeth. He won’t take insolence on top of the sneaking out. So Shiro hits a little harder next time, then the next.

“Don’t think I don’t know exactly why you were sneaking out, Keith. This is happening because you keep thinking with your dick.”

When the three strikes are done, he drops his hand to touch softly where he struck. He opens his mouth to ask if Keith’s alright and if he’s ready to come in, but the words stall on his tongue when he hears Keith laugh.

It’s not a giggle this time but a full-out laugh.

Shiro’s grip tightens unconsciously.

“You think this is funny? You think breaking my rules is a joke?”

“No.”

“You’re 17 years old and I have to spank you like you’re a toddler.”

“It tickled,” Keith says through the window, like that explains everything.

“It tickled,” Shiro repeats, incredulous.

Keith’s hips shift like he’s trying to get away again. Shiro’s grip tightens, keeping the boy still.

“Then we’ll have to do this so it doesn’t tickle.”

When Keith was a child and he was _really_ bad, he’d be spanked bare ass. It only happened twice, but now it’s happening again.

Shiro’s fingers dig under the waistband of Keith’s tiny shorts and he wrenches them down Keith’s legs. It scrapes along Keith’s skin and it must pinch because Shiro hears Keith give a sharp “ow,” but this is a punishment. Keith is going to hurt worse by the time this is done.

Shiro tucks Keith’s shorts all the way down to the boy’s ankles then straightens and takes a look at his canvas. The cheek Shiro struck is no pinker than the other – his spank really had no affect on Keith. 

Something about that just irks Shiro, like a personal insult. Like a challenge.

But then…

Shiro looks back down to the shorts at Keith’s ankles. Then up to Keith’s bare ass. Then back down to the shorts. He can see the faded blue of the jeans and the white-blue inner pocket.

Shiro speaks through gritted teeth. “Keith, are you not wearing underwear?” His hands settle over Keith’s hips and squeeze hard, lifting Keith just enough his feet no longer touch the floor. 

There’s some squawking from Keith, and what sounds like a couple different attempts to somehow lie his way out of this. Shiro squeezes even tighter, pulsing his grip just for a moment, and Keith goes slack in his hands. 

“No, sir.” 

“Who raised you to be such a slut, huh?” Shiro lowers Keith back down and raises his left hand to strike. This time, there’s a satisfying smack when his hand hits bare skin and Keith’s ass flashes white before turning a nice, light pink. “Sneaking out to parties with those friends of yours.”

Smack! goes another hit.

“Drinking underage.”

Smack.

“Smoking up.”

Smack.

“Bet you’re sucking all their cocks too, huh?”

Smack.

Smack.

Shiro is whipping himself into a frenzy. He’s not hitting hard enough to really hurt the boy. Besides, he’ll stop if he hears sounds of true distress. If Keith asks him to stop. But right now Keith is just making this short little whining noises with each hit. And his ass cheek is getting so nice and rosy – it looks better with each hit. So there’s no reason to stop.

And Shiro really can’t stand the idea of his little boy out there with those ruffians. Those idiots and thugs Keith calls friends. They’re just boys, stupid boys, who don’t know how to treat someone like Keith right.

“Bet you were sneaking off to go fuck some of them, huh?”

Smack.

“You fucking that Grffin boy?”

Smack.

“Are you?”

“No, Dad!”

Another smack lines Keith’s rear.

“Who, then? Lance? Hunk?””

“No one, it’s no one!” Keith shouts. His voice is sounding a bit high and reedy. He doesn’t sound close to tears, but he sounds overcome.

How many strikes has this been? Must be close to ten. 

Shiro pulls back and takes a look at his son.

Keith’s ass cheek is nice and red now. Ripe like an apple. It feels warm to Shiro’s touch. Keith’s thighs quiver ever so slightly from struggling to keep himself up on his toes. His legs look deceptively long like this, long and slender. He’s a well-built kid. 

Shiro scans Keith over, and his eyes are drawn to a shadow along the wall in front of them. It looks like –

Shiro leans to the side, looking around Keith’s body. And, yup! Sure enough. His son has a boner.

The little slut.

Just the sight of it fills Shiro with a fire he can’t describe. Maybe this is what Keith was going out looking for? Maybe he was going to run off and try and find someone to spank him. Someone to hurt him and fuck him and leave him. 

None of those bastards could ever deserve someone like Keith.

Shiro’s thumb rubs in a slow, gentle circle over the red patch of Keith’s ass cheek as he thinks.

“Do you like this?” Shiro asks. His voice is a mixture of awe and accusation.

Keith makes some kind of noncommittal noise in response, rather than answer the question. Teenagers! So Shiro cuts right to the heart of the problem.

With his other hand he reaches around Keith’s body and gently cups Keith’s erection. 

“I think you like this.” Shiro squeezes lightly and he hears a faint whimper through the window. Keith stumbles on his toes, his legs and ass flexing under Shiro’s touch to try and buck into his father’s hand. 

Shiro drops his grip of Keith’s dick and fills that hand with Keith’s other ass cheek. He squeezes there, feeling the way the warm flesh fills his palm. 

He strikes Keith once more and watches the shadows to see Keith’s cock bob in excitement. He thinks he spots a drop of precum falling to the floor.

“Such a horny little slut, Keith. I think you _were_ going out, looking for some cock. Weren’t you?” 

Shiro digs his thumbs into the crack of Keith’s ass and pries until he can see Keith’s hole, winking up at him. It looks clean as a whistle. 

“Look at this. You cleaned up and everything.” Shiro drags a thumb over Keith’s asshole. It comes away with a bit of dewy wetness, so he does it again, pressing in just a little.

Keith keens loudly at the intrusion but doesn’t show any sign of discomfort. In fact, the tip of Shiro’s thumb slides in easily and it comes back slick.

“You’ve prepped yourself and everything. Ready to take any cock you can get, huh boy?” Shiro strikes another blow to Keith’s cherry ass. “What, your fingers aren’t enough for you, so you have to go out and find some idiot lowlife to fuck you?”

He doesn’t even know how to be treated right. None of those boys Keith runs with know fuck all about treating someone well. They’re all piss, vinegar, and raging hormones. 

“You’re so desperate, any cock will do, won’t it?” 

Shiro remembers being that way. He remembers running around town with Adam at 17, giving each other hand jobs in fast food bathrooms, screwing in the bushes behind the library. He won’t let Keith be treated that way. 

He pulls his thumb out, then pushes it right back in, testing Keith’s preparations. His other thumb runs around Keith’s rim and tests the give before pushing in beside.

Keith moans, and there’s a sound like a fist hitting the side of the house. Keith’s scrambling to keep his legs up now, balanced up on the very tips of his toes like he’s trying to get himself deeper on Shiro’s thumbs. He’s kicked off his shoes and shorts and is trying to stand on them.

Those teenagers woudln’t know what to do with a beauty like Keith. They can’t possibly treat Shiro’s baby boy the way he deserves.

But Shiro – Shiro knows what to do. He knows how to make it so good. Knows how to last.

Maybe if he gives it to Keith, the boy won’t run off at all hours of the night. Maybe he’ll recognize a good thing when he sees it. Maybe it’ll teach him not to settle for anything but the best. 

Shiro removes his thumbs and reaches around to take Keith’s thighs in his hands. He lifts Keith up so the boy can’t touch the floor and grinds himself into Keith’s ass. Shiro’s already so hard. He can’t say when it happened, but he thinks it might’ve started the moment he saw those legs dangling out of the window.

Now, those legs try and wrap around Shiro, locking awkwardly behind his back. 

“Keith, I’m going to show you how you deserve to be treated.” Shiro punctuates the statement with a slow grind. 

He has to step back to pull his pants down, which means untangling from Keith’s legs. He detours briefly to the medicine cabinet where there’s some lube from Shiro’s last failed attempt at dating at the back of the shelf. 

Shiro slicks himself up quickly and returns to his son. He tests Keith’s give once more, making sure the boy is good and wet before he presses in. 

Keith is tight and he gets tighter as he clenches around the intrusion. Shiro soothes him with a hand along his lower back and coos out the window. “I’ve got you, Keith.” 

He rubs Keith’s back until Keith relaxes around him, then he inches in nice and slow. Keith takes him beautifully, and Shiro thrusts in a smooth motion until he’s fully seated inside his boy. 

“This is what a man feels like,” he says as he starts to pull out. “Not fast and reckless. You gotta be patient.” Shiro says this all through gritted teeth, of course. It’s difficult not to fuck in hard and fast. Keith feels so good and tight and there is real temptation to just take all he can and give nothing back. But Shiro is teaching a lesson. 

He’s not some brute teenager, selfish in bed. 

Shiro takes it slow at first, holding Keith with gentle hands as the boy gets used to the girth. Besides, taking it slow doesn’t mean it’s not good. Shiro gets to feel every tight inch of Keith’s backside. He gets to feel the silk of Keith’s skin under his hands. He gets to feel the heat of Keith’s body: intimately. 

And, going slow like this, he gets to map out Keith’s body. It doesn’t take Shiro long to find Keith’s prostate. 

Shiro doesn’t attack it. He doesn’t want to overload Keith – sometimes that intense pleasure verges too close to pain. No, Shiro eases Keith into it. 

He picks up the pace just a little, once Keith loosens around him. Keith’s legs lift up to try and wrap around him again, his heels pushing into Shiro’s shoulders like he’s edging Shiro on.

Outside, Keith is moaning. It’s hard to hear, but Shiro is listening for it. On one particularly good thrust, he can almost feel the vibrations of Keith’s moan tremble through his son’s entire body. 

“‘S good, isn’t it?” Shiro asks. “Those little boys you run around with could never give it to you good like this. Not like a man can.” Shiro gives a hard thrust, “Not like I can.” 

Shiro fucks his son for a long time, drawing it out until he can feel the pleasure coursing through Keith’s body with every slow grind of his hips. Keith’s legs drop back down, like they’ve become weak under the onslaught of his father’s prowess. Shiro can feel Keith’s orgasm building around him, just as his own is banking low in his gut. 

He needs Keith to come first. Not to prove his point – though it would prove his point – but because he wants to feel the boy’s orgasm milk his cock. It’d be the perfect end to all of this. 

So, Shiro reaches around and takes Keith in hand. He strokes his son slow and steady, letting everything build into a roaring crescendo. Outside, Keith is starting to get loud, and Shiro hears a fist hit the side of the building a few more times. Keith’s legs kick out in jerking movements. He gets almost impossibly tight around Shiro, almost like he’s fighting the tide of his orgasm. 

But there’s no fighting it. Shiro’s built it up far too well. A few more thrusts and slow twists of his wrist and then Keith is spasming around Shiro’s cock just like Shiro dreamed. 

Shiro groans out Keith’s name as he lets his hips loose. He fucks Keith fast in a short burst of orgasmic delight before Shiro buries himself deep and empties into his son. 

Fuck. It’s been a while since Shiro’s had sex, but that’s some of the best sex he’s ever had.

He waits a moment, reveling in the afterglow, before he pulls out and drops Keith back to his feet. 

The boy hangs limp from the window now, not even trying to stand, just letting his legs drop down to skim the floor. There’s a sheen of sweat to the pink of his skin – red where Shiro struck him – almost purple with a growing bruise where Shiro held him tight by his hips. 

There’s a wet slop of cum dripping from Keith’s still-clenching hole, and a spray of cum down the wall between the boy’s leg.

It makes a filthy image. Shiro’s too hopped up on adrenaline and post-orgasmic high to fight the urge to memorialize this moment. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and snaps a picture. Then he takes a few more for good measure.

Outside, Keith starts to whine. His long legs start to squirm again, wanting to be free. 

“Let me in, Dad.”

“I’ll let you in,” Shiro says, his hand resting momentarily on Keith’s hip, “when you’ve learned your lesson.” 

He flicks the light off as he heads through the door, leaving Keith in darkness. Stuck and dripping in the window.


	2. Bestiality (with a side of incest)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is still hanging out the window when Kosmo comes to help clean him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kosmo is a real dog in this one, not a space alien or anything. 
> 
> Also, don't fuck real dogs. I am not supporting real bestiality. Only the fictional kind. Because it's HOT!

Keith is still in the window.

He’s been left for maybe 5 minutes, though it feels like several hours. His legs are tired and close to cramping from the effort of keeping on his toes. He tried to stand on his shoes and the pooled fabric of his jeans but ended up kicking them out of reach shortly after his father abandoned him to his fate.

The bastard.

Though… he definitely gave Keith the night of his young life.

No one’s ever touched him like that before!

Sure, he’s been felt up. He’s had some clumsy fingers rooting around inside him, trying to find a way to make him feel good. But none of it was ever even a fraction of what his father just made him feel. It was transcendental. It was everything Keith ever wanted, and the fact it came from the one man on earth it should not have come from just made it all the better.

He likes being trapped too. Though the window and the pose is starting to hurt, especially around his midsection, he likes that he can’t move. Can’t fight it. Not his father’s hands, not his father’s cock. Nothing. 

He was at Shiro’s mercy.

But now that moment feels long past.

Keith is coming down from his high. He’s starting to get cold out in the night air. And he’s dripping.

He’s dripping down his legs and thighs. He’s sticky with cum in some places. Wet a sopping in others. He can feel every drop that leaks from his hole. 

If his dad were to come back, Keith would happily spread his legs to accept another load. But as that seems pretty unlikely at this point, he just wants to get out of this window, clean up, and go to sleep.

A soft touch along the back of his thigh startles Keith. He shouts and his whole body jerks against the window pane. 

He tries to turn and look inside, expecting to see his father standing in the dark, ready to let him in. But he can’t see anything.

There’s another touch to the back of Keith’s leg. This one touches longer, and it smears a bit of cold and wet along Keith’s bare skin.

“Kosmo, hey buddy,” Keith greets. The dog can’t get him out of here, but at least he can keep Keith company until Shiro lets him back into the house.

Kosmo makes a soft ‘boof’ noise that Keith feels against his leg more than he hears. It’s followed by another push of Kosmo’s nose.

Keith can feel the big dog sniffing at him, twitching his nose along Keith’s skin, pressing in closer to smell everywhere. It’s such a dog thing to do. Usually Keith would just shove Kosmo away and the dog would get the message – he’s a good dog, even if he wasn’t well-trained. 

But right now, Keith can’t push him away, his hands are on the wrong side of the window. So Kosmo’s muzzle delves freely between his legs. He presses until his nose touches at Keith’s balls and Keith can _feel_ the pull of air as Kosmo sniffs.

“K-Kosmo?” Keith asks. He’s not sure what he’s feeling, but it’s a similar mix of apprehension and interest that flooded him as his father spanked him not long before. 

Then Kosmo’s tongue slides up the back of Keith’s thigh and Keith tips in favour of being interested.

The touch is warm and a little rough, but it feels very nice along Keith’s skin. Apparently, it tastes good to Kosmo, because he licks again and again, spanning all across the back of Keith’s thighs like he’s cleaning the boy off. 

“Kosmo,” Keith says again, this time murmuring it to himself as his dog pushes between his legs to lick his spend from the wall. It’s almost like he’s sitting on Kosmo’s head, the way his snout is pushing snug between Keith’s legs. 

Kosmo licks up the wall, following the stream of cum up to its source. Keith gasps when that strong tongue starts to lap at the tip of his soft cock, cleaning any driblets of semen. Then he whispers a soft “good boy,” and relaxes against the windowsill as Kosmo cleans him. 

There’s no point in fighting it. Keith can’t get away if be tried.

And besides…

It feels good. 

_Very good._

It doesn’t take long before Keith’s cock is filling again in response. He’s never thought about having Kosmo lick him like this, but now that it’s happening, he’s not about to shut it down. 

Not that he could. 

Well… he could call for his father, who might shoo the dog away. But given the events of the night so far, Shiro is just as likely to sit back and watch as Kosmo licks Keith to another completion. 

Keith shudders at the thought, a slice of pleasure going through him. He tries to open his legs a little more, giving Kosmo better access to his now-swollen cock.

Kosmo licks Keith clean from his tip down to the base, then he licks and sniffs and snuffles across Keith’s balls and back along his taint, looking for more salty cum to clean up. He finds it in spades, dripping out of Keith’s ass, and he digs in for a meal. 

“Oh, Kosmo! Yes. Good boy, good boy!” Keith pants as Kosmo’s tongue digs deeper and deeper inside him. Keith loves having his ass played with, and Kosmo is perfect at it.

That strong tongue licks along Keith’s walls, touching every part of him, stirring up a new kind of pleasure that settles low in Keith’s gut. The more he cleans, the deeper he licks: searching for more, more, more. And Keith can’t help but think about his father again. Maybe Shiro could come back, fill him up again, give Kosmo even more to clean out of him. Maybe they could stay here all night, the both of them, just taking turns in Keith’s ass until he’s delirious with pleasure. 

Kosmo presses ever closer, and now his teeth are scraping along Keith’s cheeks as he absolutely buries his tongue inside Keith. He’s deep enough now to hit that spot that lights Keith up like a sparkler, bursts of delight shooting up Keith’s spine and making his head go dizzy. 

It’s not intentional. It’s not a focused attack. The dog doesn’t know what he’s doing. But Keith is almost screaming encouragement, telling Kosmo he’s a good boy, the best boy, and begging him, _pleading_ just stay right there, just keep it just like that. The dog doesn’t understand but he knows he’s doing something good. So he keeps licking and licking.

Soon enough, Keith is pounding his fists against the side of the house once more, his whole body spasming around his dog’s tongue as he comes. 

Kosmo pulls away to clean the new mess Keith has just spilled. Keith twitches and blurts out another string of cum across Kosmo’s tongue when he licks the tip. It’s playing fast and loose with Keith’s over-sensitivity, but there’s nothing he can do but wait out the shocks of pain-pleasure that come as Kosmo cleans him over again. 

Once Keith is clean, Kosmo gives him another once over, sniffing everywhere, looking for any leftovers, before he shuffles off into the hallway. 

Keith is left, hanging limp out of the window once more. And now that his heart rate is coming down again, he really is starting to feel cold. 

But he only has to wait a few more moments, while Shiro turns off the video recorder and snaps a few more pictures of Keith’s round ass, before his father sets him free.

Shiro makes a show of shutting the window tight, making sure it locks into place with Keith inside. He gives Keith a sharp look and says “good night.”

He steps close and gives Keith a swift, paternal kiss to the forehead, then he pauses. They look at each other for a moment, and Keith has no idea what his father is thinking. Then Shiro takes Keith by the chin, tilts him up, and gives him a swift, non-paternal kiss on the lips. 

Then he walks out, and they both head to their separate beds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told myself I'd take a break from writing Keith/Kosmo (does this have a ship name??? It really should) so OF COURSE I immediately turn around and add a Keismo (Koseith?) chapter. I can't help it. I just enjoy Kosmo licking Keith till he comes. 
> 
> There might be a third chapter on this. I have ideas. It's just a matter of getting them onto a word document.


	3. Incest (again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's next Saturday night, and instead of sneaking out, Keith sneaks into his father's bed for round two. And maybe even round three.

It’s another Saturday night.

It’s been a week and for the most part, Keith and his father have acted as if nothing happened. Though it all keeps playing through Keith’s mind in a steady loop. He’s fallen behind on his homework because he can’t concentrate. He’s slept through his alarm nearly every morning because he’s up all hours of the night jerking off to the memory. He blushes every time he makes eye contact with his father, remembering the soft kiss on the lips, and the smooth way Shiro took him to the hilt. 

Shiro had promised to show Keith what he was missing, and he did. Now, his father’s dick is all he can think about. It’s the only dick he wants to ride ever again.

So it’s Saturday night. It’s late. And Keith is horny for more. 

He’s considered getting himself stuck in the window again. He _really_ liked feeling vulnerable and trapped. But it took 2 days before the soreness worked out of his back. And he wants something new this time.

So he waits until it’s nearly midnight, when his father is settled in for the night but still awake. 

He slips into Shiro’s room in his boxers and an oversized shirt. It used to be Shiro’s, and although Keith’s had it for several years at this point, he still finds it smells like his dad. He loves to sleep in it. 

Shiro is illuminated by the bedside lamp on the far side of the bed. He’s sitting up against the headboard, reading a book, with his reading glasses perched perfectly on his scarred nose, and he’s shirtless. He looks up when Keith steps in, but Keith shifts his gaze down to the floor. Keith’s cheeks heat with blush, and he toes at the floor for a moment, feeling shy. He waits until Shiro’s gaze slides off him before coming up to the bed and slipping under the covers. 

His father makes no comment when Keith settles in, lying on the pillow and turned away like he’s just there to spend the night. Like he’s a child again, sleeping in dad’s bed. 

But that’s good. Keith doesn’t want a reaction.

He waits until he hears the pages of Shiro’s novel turning. That’s when he knows his father’s attention is returned to his book – once Shiro gets reading, there’s not much that will disturb him.

Without bringing attention to himself, Keith shifts down in the bed and brings the covers up over his head. He’s surrounded by blankets now, lost in a warm cocoon. He waits here for a few more minutes, letting the anticipation run through his veins. 

He gets a little lightheaded down here – it’s hard to get air through the layers of blankets, but that just adds to the excitement pumping through him. 

Keith waits as long as he can, and then he starts to move. It’s not easy to shuffle across the bed under the blankets without lifting them up, but he manages it with an inordinate amount of wiggling. He scoots himself over to his father’s side and then rolls over one of Shiro’s legs. 

His father makes room for him as Keith settles between his legs but shows no other sign of acknowledgement. He doesn’t speak, he doesn’t lift the blankets or reach beneath to touch Keith. He just keeps on reading.

Perfect.

Keith starts by pressing his face into his father’s crotch and taking a deep breath.

This is what fucked him last weekend. This cock – which is already starting to fill, so Keith nuzzles down into it to help coax it to life – is what filled Keith so perfectly. This is what made him feel so, so good. 

This is what ruined him for anyone else. 

It smells heady and musty. It smells like dick, but also like his father. And it’s so mouth-watering.

Keith nuzzles again, just playing, amusing himself with his father’s stiffening cock. He rubs his cheek along the length, draws down with his forehead, runs his nose along the sides and nudges into the spot between shaft and balls. He takes deep breaths because it’s hard to breathe under the covers, but also because he wants to be swimming in his father’s scent. It fills the warm cocoon of blankets like it’s the entire universe.

Slowly, Keith pries down the elastic band of his father’s pants and takes his cock out.

It’s too dark to see properly, so Keith susses it out with his fingers and with his cheek. It’s warm and smooth against his skin, and it leaves a drop of moisture against his temple that smears down to his cheek. Keith is going to smell just like his dad’s dick when he’s done, and he couldn’t be more thrilled about it.

He ducks his head again and buries his nose in Shiro’s dark curls. He can feel the springing hairs against his lips and he moves so that he can mouth at Shiro’s balls, massaging them with his lips. 

Keith plays with his father, just like that, for a long time. Just nuzzling and mouthing and rubbing at Shiro’s cock and balls. Gradually, he starts to add his tongue. He uses it to dig into Shiro’s pubes, feeling the rough texture and tasting the strong musk of his father. Then he starts to run the length of Shiro’s cock and suckle at the tip.

So far, Shiro’s been doing an admirable job of ignoring him. Which just makes Keith burn hotter. He doesn’t know what it is about doing this, so secretive under the blankets, while his father just reads a book. But it’s _Good_. 

But when Keith finally wraps his lips around Shiro’s tip and sucks, using his tongue to circle the seam, he hears a muffled gasp, and he feels his father’s legs tense around him. Like Keith’s giving it too good. Like Shiro can’t help himself. 

Keith burns with pride, and he grins around the stretch of Shiro’s cock as he slowly eases himself down. He’s not done playing yet, though. He’s not going to give in and suck Shiro properly just yet. He wants to earn it, nice a slow, just like his dad did for him last weekend. Take it slow. Make it so good, he can’t stop the tide of pleasure even if he wants to.

It goes without saying that Keith is hard. He’s lying on his stomach, his cock throbbing underneath him, and he can’t help the slow grind of his hips into the mattress as he plays. But he’s so focused on his mouth, and his hands, and rubbing his father’s slick and leaking cock over every inch of his face, that he’s happy to just grind a bit to take the edge off. 

When Keith starts to suck his father off in earnest, he can feel a change all around him. Shiro’s legs flex and shake beside Keith like he’s trying to hold himself steady but can’t. His breath starts coming in pants, too; Keith can feel the quick movement of his abdomen. Keith can hear his little noises as well. 

Though all this, Keith imagines his father is still reading. Still pretending Keith isn’t down here, doing this, taking him apart with his mouth. 

‘God, just ignore me, daddy, while I suck your cock!’ He nearly moans at the thought, and his hips tick a little harder into the mattress.

Then Keith picks up rhythm and Shiro starts rolling his hips to meet it. Keith sucks hard and goes as deep as he can, letting Shiro’s cock bounce off the back of his throat. 

Suddenly, there’s a hand pressing over Keith’s head through the blankets and Shiro rolls his hips up _deep_ into Keith’s mouth. There’s an explosion of salt in his mouth and he struggles to swallow it all as his dad holds him in place and tries to grind deeper into his mouth. 

Keith whimpers, and it’s not because he’s choking on his father’s cum (though he is). It’s because it’s _so fucking hot!_

He sucks every drop and only stops when the blankets lift, bringing light and a blast of fresh air. Keith let’s his father’s cock fall from his lips as he looks up at him, doing his absolute best to look innocent.

“Having fun?” Shiro asks, his eyebrow raised over the rim of his reading glasses. 

It’s not fair that he can sound so put-together so soon after coming. Keith just nods in response because he knows he’ll sound fucked out and needy if he opens his mouth. His cock is still hard and aching beneath him, and now that he’s done sucking his dad, his own cock has become top priority. 

Shiro grabs Keith under the arms and lifts until Keith’s straddling over his legs.

“See, isn’t this better than sneaking out?” Shiro asks. He runs his thumb along Keith’s lower lip and gathers up a drop of cum, which he feeds back to his son. 

Keith nods again, sucking lightly on Shiro’s thumb with a low hum of agreement. 

Shiro inspects Keith for a minute, judging him for something Keith can’t imagine. Keith must look a sight. He’s filthy with ball sweat and precum over his face from his playing, and there’s still more cum around his mouth and chin, he can feel it. But Shiro doesn’t say anything, he just takes it all in at his own leisure. 

Then Shiro cups his hand over Keith’s hip and slowly draws down until he’s holding Keith’s ass in his hand, one finger squeezing tantalizingly between Keith’s ass cheeks. 

“Since you’ve been such a good boy for me,” Shiro starts, and Keith thrills to hear he’s been a good boy, “I guess you deserve a treat.”

He squeezes Keith’s ass and pulls him tight, so they’re chest to chest. 

Keith isn’t a child anymore – he’s 17 – but he still feels small in his father’s lap. 

Shiro’s hand is warm through the fabric of Keith’s boxers, his other hand trails a line of spittle along Keith’s jaw as his fingers curl around Keith’s neck. 

“What do you want for your treat?”

Keith’s hands find a home over Shiro’s chest, resting on his father’s pectorals. He squeezes them as he thinks – though it’s mostly just for show because he knows _exactly_ what he wants, it’s just a matter of asking for it – and then he draws his hands slowly up to Shiro’s shoulders and then around Shiro’s neck. He twists his fingers in the short hairs at the base of Shiro’s neck.

Keith shifts his weight back into the hand cupping his bottom.

“Spank me again.”

“Spank you?” His father sounds only mildly surprised. In fact, he sounds more like he’s teasing Keith. His hand tightens its grip on Keith’s ass and pulls them even closer together, so Keith’s erection rubs against his stomach. Keith whimpers and ruts forward lightly, seeking friction. Seeking the warmth of his father’s body. “Spanking is only for bad boys, don’t you want a treat?”

They’re close enough now that Keith can feel Shiro’s breath against his skin. 

Shiro’s grip tightens further and he guides Keith’s hips into a firm and steady rock. 

Slowly, Shiro leans forward, pushing Keith and making him tilt backwards. It presses them close together, Keith’s lower half trapped in his father’s lap. Keith can hardly catch his breath as he rubs his hard cock across Shiro’s stomach. Then Shiro lifts Keith’s shirt and his mouth lands over one of Keith’s nipples at the same moment Shiro’s finger presses between Keith’s cheeks, feeling out Keith’s hole through the flimsy fabric of his boxers. 

Keith clings to his father, bent backward as he is, his nails digging into Shiro’s scalp. He whines and ruts himself hard against Shiro, though he’s careful not to disrupt the mouth that’s suckling and nibbling at his nipple. 

“See? Good boys get treated to good things,” Shiro explains as he kisses his way over to Keith’s other nipple to give it the same treatment. 

He rolls Keith’s nipple under his tongue and then scrapes it lightly with his teeth. 

Keith would be perfectly happy to just stay like this. To just get himself off by rubbing against his father while being teased by tongue and finger. But he _wants_ to be spanked. Wants it desperately.

“P-puh-please!” Keith stammers. He’s nearing his end and he knows if he doesn’t say something soon, it’ll be too late. “I want you to spank me. I promise I’ll be good. I’ll be so good for you. Just spank me. Spank me please. Please. I want to feel it. Please.” He sounds frantic, and that’s because he is. 

Shiro must hear the desperation in his son’s voice because he pulls back. There’s a bit of distance between them now and Keith can feel the fog in his brain start to clear. Shiro takes a minute to admire Keith’s flushed face, pert nipples, and damp boxers. Then he leans forward again and nips a little kiss to Keith’s chin. Keith can feel the prickle of Shiro’s 5 o’clock shadow against his skin. 

“Kiss me,” Shiro says. 

Keith isn’t exactly sure why he hesitates. It’s stupid, he’s just sucked his father’s dick! But this is something else. There’s something about it, some kind of invisible line that Keith hesitates to cross.

“Do as you’re told,” Shiro says, his voice sharper, more commanding.

Keith falls forward and presses his lips to Shiro’s. He has only a fraction of a second to register the softness of his father’s lips before the kiss becomes filthy. Shiro pries Keith’s lips open and claims his mouth in a hot, wet kiss that leaves Keith panting and wanting more. They break apart only long enough for Keith to gasp a breath and then he pounces on Shiro.

They both go tumbling back, and there’s a thunk when Shiro’s head hits the headboard, but they pay it no mind. They’re too occupied with each other. With licking into each other’s mouths. With nibbling lips and tongues. With kissing so passionately Keith can’t imagine kissing anyone else ever again.

Shiro’s hands travel Keith’s body as they make out, and both hands find their way under Keith’s boxers to grapple and squeeze Keith’s ass cheeks in their palms. 

Keith keens into his father’s mouth when Shiro dips a finger down low to circle his entrance. He tries to push himself back into Shiro’s touch and goad his father into pressing deep inside him. 

“Ah ah ah,” Shiro warns, “good boys wait their turn.”

Keith huffs a sigh and gives his father a weak glare. “I’ve already been good. Please,” he gives Shiro a quick kiss, “I want more.”

Shiro stays perfectly still as he deliberates, and it takes all of Keith’s willpower not to grind himself back onto his father’s finger and take what he wants for himself. That is his usual way. But he’s being good.

He’s being a good boy for his daddy.

“You’re right,” Shiro agrees at last. “Ok, take these off,” he snaps the band of Keith’s boxers as he retrieves his hands, “and get me the lube from the side table.”

Keith scrambles to follow orders, kicking his boxers to the floor and tossing his shirt away for good measure before snatching up the lube and settling back in Shiro’s lap. 

“Like this, so I can see you,” Shiro instructs, moving Keith until he’s on his knees over Shiro’s lap, ass in the air and face resting on a pillow at Shiro’s side. “Such a pretty little boy,” Shiro says, running a reverent touch over the plum of Keith’s ass and down Keith’s thigh. 

Keith shivers under his father’s touch. It’s like electricity across his skin. Only more dangerous. 

Forbidden. 

“Did you open yourself up for me again?” Shiro asks. He doesn’t wait for a response; he just pushes two fingers deep inside and lets the stretch answer for him. “What a good boy.”

Shiro runs his free hand through Keith’s hair, and Keith receives the touch like it’s high praise. He’s given no time for adjustment this time, Shiro splits Keith open on two thick digits, giving it nice and hard.

Keith is already whining against the pillow. His hands are clinging to the blankets, twisting them up in his fingers. Fuck it feels so good like this.

He’s prone and naked in his father’s lap. His father’s fingers are unrelenting as they fill and stretch his ass. He’s already losing grip on anything outside of the pleasure coursing through his body.

Which is why, when Shiro asks him if he’s ever come like this before, it takes Keith several seconds to figure out he’s even being addressed.

Keith looks up at his father, helplessly.

“Have you ever come like this?” Shiro repeats, “Just from your ass.”

Keith shakes his head no, pauses to actually consider the question, then shakes his head again. He hardly knows what he’s answering, but he’s quite sure it’s the right answer. 

Honestly, Keith will answer anything right now just to keep feeling exactly like he feels right now. Shiro is hitting him perfectly, right where he needs it.

“You will tonight,” Shiro says, darkly. 

“Ok,” Keith agrees, but only because he thinks his father is expecting a response. He’s not really paying attention.

Who could pay attention when their ass is being stretched so gloriously around thick fingers, when they’re being fucked so soundly by their own father?

But then Shiro’s fingers stop.

He stays, seated deep inside Keith, but he doesn’t move. 

At first Keith whines, but Shiro just shushes him and pinches at the back of his neck like a scruffed puppy. 

Then Shiro moves just the tips of his fingers. Just a slow, deliberate circle over Keith’s prostate.

Keith lights up. He groans and tries to buck on Shiro’s fingers, but the hand on his neck tightens and pushes him down. It’s enough to keep Keith in place.

The fingers don’t stop, though. They circle again and again, nice a slow. Each pass is a burst of sparks across Keith’s skin and down his spine. He can feel the pleasure of it explode behind his eyes. 

“That’s it, Keith. Just like that. It’s good, hey? Do you like that?” 

Keith licks his lips, his mouth is so dry, and nods into the pillow. He’s being held down hard enough to make nodding difficult, but Shiro seems to find it acceptable.

Shiro’s fingers circle again and this time it’s even better. Like the more he touches, the more Keith feels. The sparks are fire now, and Keith has to fight the urge to twitch, like a dog kicking their leg when you scratch the right spot.

This whole thing is strange and intense. He’s trapped over his father’s lap by a strong grip over his neck and the thick weight of two fingers plugged deep inside him. His father is lighting him up from the inside out with slow, deliberate, delicious strokes. Keith can’t move, but if he could, he wouldn’t want to. 

“Ahh!” Keith cries as the flames strike up another notch. Then, “Ahh! Ahhh!” again. Nothing’s changed but the continued repetition. It’s building to something. It’s building up higher than Keith’s ever experienced. It’s terrifying and thrilling. And he thinks if this were anyone else, he would have run scared ages ago.

As it is, Keith’s fingers hurt from clutching at the blankets, and his legs almost shake from trying to keep himself still. His short bursts of “Ahh!” are starting to turn into squealing, pig noises as his father winds him up another notch. And then another.

“Shhh, shhh,” Shiro soothes.

The grip over Keith’s neck loosens and then strong fingers are running through Keith’s hair, over his neck, and down his back. 

“You’re doing so good. Such a good boy for me,” Shiro praises, petting down Keith’s body again and again. His other hand just continues his slow torture.

But then there’s a shift. Shiro’s fingers turn just a little as he rearranges his hand and then – _God almighty!!_ – Shiro’s thumb presses into Keith’s taint and circles.

The touch is firm but gentle. And it’s just as cruelly slow as everything else. 

Only this is doubly excruciating!

Keith makes a hiccupping noise he would never recognize from himself as his prostate is attacked from both sides.

He digs his fingers into the pillow and pulls at it like he’s trying to rip it apart.

It’s too much!

It’s so good!

He’s losing his _mind!_

He can hardly take it.

Keith is clenching around his father’s fingers, struggling to keep upright. His cock hangs heavy in the air, and it drips like a faucet onto Shiro’s lap. He’s grunting for breath. His whole body is on fire, his heart is hammering, he can’t think straight, there’s only that little bundle of nerves shooting fire through his nervous system. Lighting him up like a firework.

All the while, Shiro keeps murmuring praise and petting down his back in a long, smooth stroke.

His hands scritch through Keith’s hair and along the back of Keith’s neck. His touch is gentle as he runs his palm over the curve of Keith’s shoulders and up the slope of Keith’s back. He ends, curling his fingers over Keith’s ass cheek, kneading the tender flesh.

Shiro lets go, and Keith expects him to return to pet his hair, but instead –

_Smack!_

His father hand strikes across Keith’s ass like he means it.

Keith screams.

From shock. From pain. From pleasure. 

You name it.

“Is this what you wanted?” Shiro asks before striking again with another resounding _smack_.

Keith screams again and it ends with a growl. He feels feral in the bed. He thinks he’s crying, but he can’t tell. He takes a bite of the pillow and he rips with his teeth and his hands. 

Somehow, in all of that, he communicates that yes, _yes_ , this is exactly what he wants.

Shiro is still circling his fingers deep inside, still rubbing along Keith’s taint, when he strikes again and again. 

And then Keith whites out. 

He becomes nothing but a live wire. Just raw sensation and eternal bliss. It crashes over him in wave after wave, unending. His body can hardly bear the brunt of it, and he collapses down into his father’s lap.

Logically speaking, he’s only out for a few seconds. He feels when Shiro stops milking his prostate, and he feels when Shiro pulls out of him. But it feels like eons before he can lift his head, pick himself, and give his father a crooked grin.

“That was amazing.”

Shiro smiles and passes his son a cup of water. “I’m glad you liked it. Now,” he pins Keith with a dark look, “you’ve got five minutes to rest before round two.”

Keith drinks his water slowly, eyes trained on his father who watches him in turn. 

He drains the glass.

“Don’t need five minutes. Fuck me now.”

Static charges between them as Shiro holds Keith’s gaze, judging the veracity of his claim.

Like lightning, Shiro pounces. He pushes Keith down on his back and hoists Keith’s legs up by the knees. He hooks Keith’s legs over his shoulders and presses until Keith’s bent nearly in half. 

Shiro’s still in his pants, but he pulls his cock out the hole and that’s all he needs. He lubes himself up like a slob, slopping it along Keith’s ass so it drips down Keith’s back. 

It takes about 10 seconds total and then Shiro is fucking in, hard and fast. He’s not holding back a single thing.

“Now, you’re going to see what rough feels like.”

Shiro speaks through his gritted teeth as he plows into his son. 

Keith is weak in the bed, trapped under his father’s weight, his limbs still half-liquid from his orgasm. He just lays back and takes everything Shiro gives him, while Shiro thrusts with all his might.

The stretch is incredible. Two fingers were not enough to stretch Keith all the way, and his father’s cock burns as it splits him open in the best way. It’s brutal and perfect. Keith is already addicted to it. 

“Fuck, Keith. You’re so fucking tight. So good, such a good boy for daddy.”

Keith’s head lolls on the bed, his every breath coming out as a grunt that’s fucked from his body with force. He whines when his father calls him a good boy.

“Say it, Keith. Tell me who’s a good boy for daddy.” 

Shiro is panting, but he doesn’t slow down.

This round isn’t for Keith. It’s for Shiro. And he’s taking every inch he gets.

“I am,” Keith groans. The words are forced out with a grunt and it’s like music to Shiro’s ears.

“Who’s daddy’s little slut, huh?”

“Me. It’s me,” Keith groans. He’s crying again, and Shiro just fucks him faster for it.

“That’s right. Who’s daddy’s good little slut, huh? Who’s my little plaything? Who’s my baby boy?”

“’S me, daddy! Me. I am. Me!” His voice is so hoarse he has to almost scream it to hear over the slap of their bodies and the wild thumping of their bed. 

“Fuckin’ right, you are,” Shiro growls.

He lifts a hand to grope roughly at Keith’s cock. Just like that, his son becomes a vise around him.

“God! Fuck!” Shiro cries out. He fucks with abandon, jerking Keith wildly as he surges toward his own end. He makes an ugly grunting noise as he fills his son full of his cum. 

It takes a few more uncoordinated jerks for Keith to cum all over himself. Keith’s orgasm milks Shiro out of the end of his own and then they both collapse together in the bed.

“Bedtime,” Shiro says weakly.

He just wraps whatever corner of a blanket he can reach over them and pulls his boy to his chest. He doesn’t bother to clean anything. He likes the idea that Keith will be dripping his cum all night. This time, Kosmo won’t be cleaning it out of him.

Though, who knows, maybe in the morning, Shiro will take over that task himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I'm almost mad at myself because I think this might be the hottest sex scene I've ever written and it's not for my main account. But still, this is some good fucking shit and I'm proud as fuck to share it with you all!
> 
> Any kudos, or especially comments, you can pass my way would be greatly appreciated. It's funny how few comments and kudos get put on dead dove content. Ya'll know you can comment anonymously, right? Like, filth writers need love too.
> 
> I have a filth twitter now, too. I use it to mainly talk about different horny incest Sheith ideas I'm too lazy to turn into actual fics. You can check it out, if ya wants.  
> Twitter: [@Dumpster_Fire](https://twitter.com/NestofTrash)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> This is my first stuck in a wall fic, so I hope it's good. Chapter 2 will be up very shortly.
> 
> I enjoy comments and kudos (even anon ones!) so please tell me if I made you hot.
> 
> I have a twitter now for my filth account. I don't post there much, but I do from time to time when I have an idea short enough for twitter.  
> Twitter: [@Dumpster_Fire](https://twitter.com/NestofTrash)


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